Til Him
by Angst Is My Middle Name
Summary: Just a little oneshot, sorta songfic about how much Wilson and House appreciate each other. HousexWilson FRIENDSHIP.


**_Disclaimer: I don't own House... but owning Dr. Chase wouldn't be too bad..._**

**_HousexWilson FRIENDSHIP. Sorry if I have the time line a bit screwy, but I've missed a lot of House because I'm always at youth group. Forgive me and love it for what it is!!! (Inspired by the song from "The Producers". I LOVE that movie!)_**

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I've always had trouble keeping any relationships other than my professional ones very long. Friends said I was too distant, and lovers have called me clingy. I didn't trust anyone with secrets, especially because I lost and gained friends all the time, and the hasty ending of a friendship could ruin an entire career; I'd seen it happen many times. Then I met Greg. He'd been so happy with life, constantly smiling and laughing at a joke he'd just made. Stacey was there for him, to love him, and he was a happy man.

Once, I left for a very long conference in Washington (the state). Two weeks… and when I came back, my best friend was in a chemically-induced coma awaiting a surgery he didn't want after an infarction no one had told me about. I began to preoccupy myself with his condition. My second marriage began to fail. Greg became bitter and sarcastic. Stacey dumped him. I vividly remember him bellowing at her to get out of his sight, then breaking down and sobbing when she left.

Now, we were both lonely men, each the other's lone friend. I moved into Greg's apartment with him, half-hoping it would give my now ex-wife time to calm down and think so I wouldn't have to go through another divorce. A few days later, she already had papers drawn up. I just remember sobbing on Greg's couch, crying my eyes out for no reason at all, as a culmination of all that had happened. Then, he, who was sometimes in so much pain he woke up screaming, comforted me, told me it would be okay… and I was thankful for it. I knew I would be helping him out so much, whether I approved of what he was doing or not, and that was sufficient thanks for all I would do. I caught him when he fell when he decided to try walking without his cane, and I brought him his Vicodin when he woke up screaming. All he needed to do was say, "Thanks, Jimmy," and that all the compensation I needed.

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Of course I was alone. I was a bitter man who could only make snide comments and sarcastic remarks to whoever spoke to him. I popped pills to keep my constant pain at bay. All my friends abandoned me because I had changed. They no longer cared for my presence, and I really didn't want theirs. Stacey left me, too; that broke me more than anything. I fell deeper into anger and sarcasm to cover it up. I felt completely alone.

Then, Jimmy came back. He'd been away during my infarction, and all he cared about when he came back was me. He only wanted to know how I was feeling and how much pain I was in and what he could do to help me. He wanted to stop by my apartment and check up on me, go out for drinks, eat lunch with me. He still wanted to be my friend. For the first two months, everyday, he asked how I was, how much pain I had, if he could do anything for me. Each time I entered the room he was in, I saw his eyes flicker to my leg to see if my limp was better or worse.

Eventually, he stopped asking about my leg and my pain. He made no mention of it until I started popping more Vicodin. He went back to asking me how much pain I had and if he could do anything. Cuddy and the ducklings did nothing but tell me what I was doing was wrong and offer me professional help. Jimmy offered me _his_ help. His second marriage was pretty much over, so he offered to move in with me. Even when he didn't approve of what I did, he helped me out. When I decided to try and walk without the cane, he was there to catch me when I fell. When the pain was almost too much, he was there to hold my hand or do whatever I needed him to do. I preferred to be alone most of my life… 'til him.

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_He filled up my empty life,_

_Filled it to the brim._

_There could never ever be another one like him._

_- "The Producers"_

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**_Sorry it's so short, but the inspiration bug bit me... hard. Lemme know what you think!_**


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